


Reckoning

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-18
Updated: 2006-03-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Possible consequences of T'Pol's decision not to marry. (10/16/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Contest entry for Quills T/Tu challenge.   


* * *

Walking down the corridor with information pad in hand, T'Pol didn't see the junction she was approaching. She was too busy reading the letter she'd just received from Vulcan. From her family. If she had to admit to feeling anything at that particular moment it would be _panic_. As T'Pol approached the other corridor she collided with something softer than a bulkhead but hard enough to make her bounce off it and to the floor. The pad went skittering away from her as she landed on her rump in an undignified heap.

"T'Pol!" exclaimed Commander Tucker. He bent down and grabbed her upper arm, hauling her back to her feet. "I'm sorry! Didn't see you wanderin' past. Y'alright?"

"Fine," the Vulcan replied. "I was...preoccupied. I think I should apologize to you for not paying attention to where I was going." T'Pol looked up at him, the slightest hint of a sheepish look on her face. "I apologize."

Trip retrieved her data pad and handed it to her. "Nah, no need t'apologize. I wasn't payin' much attention either, to be honest." He offered a quick smile before he noticed the look in her eyes. He'd seen that look once before. "Everything alright, T'Pol?"

She looked up at him again, recognizing the sincerity in his tone. Commander Tucker had the annoying tendency to be keenly perceptive to her moods. He bent his knees so he could look into her eyes at her own eye level. T'Pol noted that he wore an intense look of concern. She looked away and back to her pad.

"I received a letter from Vulcan," was all she said. She did not find it necessary to expound on what that meant. The engineer already knew more about her than the rest of the crew combined. She figured he would get the clue and perhaps if she was lucky today Mr. Tucker might even drop the subject. 

"I was just headin' to the Mess, see about gettin' me some pie," Trip said in a forced casual tone. "Wanna join me?"

It was not T'Pol's lucky day. Somehow, since their mission began, pie had become a symbol of peace between them. It remained an unspoken truce, a bridge in their cultural gap. His offer to join her for the sweet pastry was an invitation to listen.

"I should meditate," said T'Pol, almost desperately. She had too much to sort through. She needed to digest this information, purge the rampant emotions coursing through her. T'Pol looked up at the Commander and saw the stark disappointment on his face. The concern soon overshadowed that, though. He only nodded, his eyes not wavering from hers.

"If there's anything I can do..." his voice trailed off.

"Perhaps you can save me a slice," T'Pol heard herself say. What was it about Mr. Tucker that made her acquiesce so readily? 

"Sure," said Trip softly. "I'll swing by later...if that's alright?" 

Nodding once, T'Pol stepped away from him. She caught his gaze once more before continuing down the corridor to her quarters. 

** ** ** **

T'Pol had lost all track of time. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, anything but her usual calm control. She was unsettled and her meditation was not having the desired effect. She had a decision to make, and much like the circumstances a year ago, T'Pol's mind was already made up. The part that unnerved her was how to respond to the letter she had received. She'd been going through it in her head, over and over, and had still not determined an adequate response.

The door chimed. It startled T'Pol out of her semi-meditation. She had forgotten the Commander would be stopping by. He was always true to his word.

"Come in," she called. T'Pol remained seated on the pillows on the floor and watched as the door swooshed open. The bright light from the corridor carved into her candle-lit room.

"Evenin'," Trip greeted. He looked and sounded somewhat nervous. His eyes quickly took in the mint green pajamas she wore. In his hands he carried a covered dish. "Those vultures grabbed all the pie. I'm sorry I couldn't save you a piece. I know how you like your pecan pie," he apologized. "I couldn't even grab one for myself." He paused and remembered what he had in his hand. "I brought you a salad, though. Figgered you probably haven't thought much about eatin'."

The Vulcan blinked at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. She rose from her place at the low table and took the dish from him. "Thank you, Commander," T'Pol said quietly. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not hungry right now." She set the dish on her desk and moved to sit back down.

"When was the last time you ate, T'Pol?" asked Trip, sitting down across from her. 

"This morning," she said scowling. T'Pol looked at him and her expression softened. "I recognize your concern and I appreciate that as well, but I won't be passing out from malnutrition anytime soon, Commander."

The engineer said no more. They simply sat there in silence, looking at one another. It was then T'Pol noticed he was wearing one of his loud Hawaiian shirts. The top two buttons were undone in a casual, off-duty manner.

"What is it?" Trip finally asked her. His voice was barely above a whisper. 

T'Pol opened her mouth and then closed it again. The last time she had opened up to him she'd forced him to listen. Now Commander Tucker was here of his own volition. There was no guilt this time. He wanted to be here. And, she reluctantly admitted, she wanted him to be here too. She decided to tell him.

"Do you remember when I sent a transmission back to Vulcan regarding my betrothal?" T'Pol asked him quietly. Her head was slightly bowed but she looked up at him through her lashes.

"Yeah, you requested a postponement," replied Trip with a nod. He looked at her expectantly. "Didn't you?"

"Not exactly," she said, averting her eyes. "I cancelled it."

T'Pol expected any range of outburst but what she did not expect was his stunned silence. She looked up to find a most puzzled expression on his face. His mouth hung open as he blinked repeatedly. After several long seconds Trip finally managed to find his voice.

"You _cancelled_ it? Are you allowed to do that?"

"Not without consequences."

Trip leaned forward. "What kind of consequences are we talkin' about, T'Pol?"

"Being ousted." 

"Ousted?" Trip repeated. " From the High Command? How can they just force you out like that? They shouldn't be stickin' their noses in a personal matter!"

Before he could continue his tirade, T'Pol held up a hand. "I'm not being expelled from the High Command." She paused and held his gaze. "My father has determined I am no longer a member of the family." 

Trip sat dumbfounded. She had managed to render him speechless. T'Pol took the silence as an opportunity to continue. 

"Once bonded, Vulcans are expected to marry. Koss has not entered the Pon Farr yet. I thought he would have enough time to secure another mate. My father disagrees." She looked up to find Trip fidgeting with his hands. The shadows from the mediation candles flickered across his face. It struck her then just how handsome this human was. It unnerved her.

"I am not to return to my family's land," she continued hoarsely, "unless I agree to marry someone else." 

"They gave you an ultimatum?" Trip asked quietly. He met her gaze and T'Pol could see the anger in his eyes. "Get married or be disowned? That's a hell of a choice." Trip bit his lip and shook his head. She knew he was holding his tongue.

"I do not wish to choose either one," T'Pol admitted. "I believe I've found myself...between a rock and a hard place."

Trip's gaze snapped back to hers. He grinned in spite of himself. "You can say that again."

The levity was short-lived. T'Pol placed both hands on the meditation table, as if to brace herself. "I do not want to marry. Not at this time. And not to this man. I want to be in control of my own destiny."

"Even at the expense of your family?" asked Trip.

T'Pol nodded. "Yes."

"You're gonna sacrifice your family for your happiness," Trip said. It wasn't a question. He looked at her, at the pained expression on her face. He reached across the table and put his hand on one of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I don't want to live the next 150 years in misery. It's my life and it's my decision," whispered T'Pol. She glanced down at his gesture of comfort and was grateful for it. 

"I don't blame you," said Trip softly. "That's a tough choice. Spend the rest of your life with someone you don't love or cut ties with your family. Either one is gonna cause some strife somewhere along the line. Believe me, I know."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at this. "You know what?"

"I was married once, T'Pol," Trip said with a sigh. He squeezed her hand again. "When I was a kid I always used to play with the neighbor girl, Grace. She was my best friend for a long time. Everyone thought it was so cute, always told us we'd end up married. I guess maybe they conditioned us to believe it. We dated all through school and tied the knot as soon as we graduated." 

He paused, his free hand fiddled with the candle. He was staring into the flame. "That was probably the biggest mistake I ever made. But we got married because our families expected it. I was in Starfleet and didn't see Gracie very much. Which was fine with her. And me, in all honesty. We were just so sick of each other. When I did go home, or when she came to visit all we did was fight. Bein' joined at the hip with the same person for 15 years while tryin' to grow up is too much. After a couple years we just dissolved the marriage. Thank God there were no kids."

Trip looked up at T'Pol and shrugged. He pulled his hand away, not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice. "My parents weren't exactly thrilled with me. Didn't speak to me for several years after that. My mom was pretty damn pissed that I didn't give her any grandkids. My dad felt that I blew the only chance at findin' a decent woman. Kinda brings down a guy's self-esteem when his own daddy doesn't think he's worthy of a woman's affections."

His eyes darted around the room and settled back on T'Pol's. "I know it's not exactly the same thing..." Trip bowed his head and studied his lap.

"It's strikingly similar," she said quietly. "I'm sorry." T'Pol didn't know what to say. She had a thousand thoughts running through her head, however. She knew what he was trying to do and was grateful for that as well. The bitterness and pain were evident in his eyes and voice. Momentarily forgetting her own problem, her stoic Vulcan mask faltered as T'Pol's heart went out to him.

"No. Don't be," said Trip in a strained voice. "Everything happens for a reason, T'Pol." He still wouldn't look up.

"Regardless, it appears to me that you still hurt from it," she countered. This man never ceased to amaze her.

"Nah, I'm not still hurtin' from it. My folks and I cleared the air...ya know, worked out our issues," he said. He drew little circles on the table with his finger. "I'm jus' feelin' your pain right now because I went through somethin' similar myself."

With another sigh, Trip heaved himself off the floor and wandered over to the port. "I know what's in store for you, T'Pol and it's not gonna be pretty." He turned and looked at her briefly before reverting his gaze back to the stars.

She watched him carefully. Trip stood with his arms crossed, biting his bottom lip. He shook his head slightly. T'Pol surmised he was having an internal dialogue with himself. Much like she had been doing all day.

"That's not what's bothering you, is it?" she asked.

Trip hung his head, shaking it slowly. "T'Pol," he began. He was unsure of his next words. "Hell, I feel like this is my fault. I'm the one that talked you into stayin' the first time around and now you're about t'be cut off from the most important thing, family."

Silently she rose to her feet and moved next to him. "Mr. Tucker, you talked me into nothing. My mind was already made up a year ago, as it was this evening. In both instances I had already come to my decision."

He scrubbed at his jaw with his hand. "Then why ask for my advice?" Trip looked out at the stars.

She pondered that for a moment. "I think...I suppose I needed some sort of validation," said T'Pol. "I needed to know if it was the right decision. Of all the humans onboard Enterprise, you were the one that was the most vocal against my appointment to the mission. In some weird sort of logic, I felt that if you would approve of my staying then it would be the correct decision."

Trip turned and looked down at her. His eyes narrowed. "You have no intentions of goin' back, do you? You never did." Realization dawned on him. "Wait a sec...you took this assignment to keep you off Vulcan, didn't you? You expected to be returned back to Earth, stayin' in San Francisco. I'll be damned. I always knew there was somethin' different about you, T'Pol."

"Likewise, it seems the more I learn about you, Commander, the more I realize about myself," said T'Pol quietly.

He smiled. "Birds of a feather..."

"I'm not familiar with that phrase," she said with a puzzled frown.

He laughed outright at that. Without thinking Trip threw an arm around her shoulder. "The whole thing is 'birds of a feather flock together'. It means that we got a lot in common an' I'm gonna be here whenever you need a shoulder to lean on." He noted their positioning and chuckled slightly. "Sometimes literally."

T'Pol's frown disappeared as she looked into his face. Cautiously she returned the gesture, her arm loose around his waist. "Thank you, Commander."

Trip smiled at her and tugged her closer for a hug. T'Pol fit quite snugly in his embrace, her head turned against his chest. She could hear the rhythmic thumping of his heart. She tightened her arms around him, relishing the feel of him against her. It was comforting. His hands had found the hem of her pajama top, sneaking underneath to splay his palms against her skin. Trip's chin rested on the top of her head. 

She turned her face into his chest, finding the open gap in his shirt. Inhaling his scent, T'Pol pressed her face more firmly against him. The hairs on his chest tickled her nose and lips. She felt her hands clutching at his shirt tails as she opened her mouth a bit to breathe easier. T'Pol heard Trip's heart rate quicken. He bent his head so they were ear to ear, his breath warm on her neck. She felt his hands move across her back. She sank deeper into him, her lips lightly brushing his skin. It felt so right.

T'Pol felt a momentary hesitation in his embrace. It was slight but noticeable. She opened her eyes for a second and watched a tear slowly rolling down Trip's cheek. She was not sure of the reason but she knew that it was not open for discussion. What had he said about things happening for a reason? Perhaps this was one of them. 

T'Pol reached a hand up and gently clasped the back of his neck. She turned her head into him, her mouth grazing his jaw. His fingertips lightly scraped her flesh as she felt a shudder pass barely detected through him. Her forehead rested against his temple, their breath mingled. The sound of her own racing heartbeat filled T'Pol's sensitive ears.

For possibly the first time in her life, T'Pol felt a sense of belonging. Trip's embrace made her feel welcome. It made her feel wanted. It made her feel strong and whole. The last place T'Pol wanted to be was back on Vulcan. She was certain she'd made the correct choice.

They held each other for a moment longer and slowly pulled apart. Trip wiped his cheek and looked at T'Pol. "You gonna be okay?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Good." Trip nodded. "I'm headin' out now. I'm suddenly feelin' a little tired." He turned to walk towards the door. After a second he turned back towards T'Pol. "For what it's worth, T'Pol, I'm glad you stayed." He smiled and jerked his head toward her desk and added, "Don't forget to have some of that salad, k?" With that, Trip left.

T'Pol watched the door for a few seconds and then moved towards the desk. She picked up the dish and brought it to her table. As she prepared to eat the first forkful, an unfamiliar lump appeared in her throat. She felt a tear welling up and blinked it back quickly. T'Pol stared into her dish.

Trip had put pecans in the salad.


End file.
